Vietnam, Malaysia, Indonesia and the unsent letters. PART 2: Kuala Lumpur

“This guidebook is really outdated; you won’t like it.”

The aerodynamic design of airplanes is said to be inspired by birds. And why shouldn’t it be? The way these endothermic vertebrates soar high in the sky makes one want to follow suit—that is, to fly high and beyond the clouds. In a more realistic sense, humans have harnessed the power of flight and unleashed its potential, that’s why we now have airplanes.

I’d like to think of the earth as one giant aviary, holding captive thousands of engine-equipped man-made birds constantly on the go. With their altitude limits and registered destinations (unless you happen to design a subsonic plane that can fly to Mars), planes have become predictable in that we have taken the whole concept of flying for granted, almost similar to our daily commute to work.

Now birds and airplanes do have something in common for both to stay in the air for as long as they could: Wings. And it is in this aerodynamic truth that without lift generated by the wings nothing would be flying out there.

In 2003, at age 19, I found myself wanting to stretch my wings as I stood on a hill with a feather in hand. I was getting weary of constant domestic traveling that I got compelled to decide going international. I held the feather—a symbol of flight—said a little prayer, but was interrupted by a mere innocent question: “So, where are you going, Vince?” And then the word “Malaysia” came out of nowhere. I let go of the feather and off it floated in the air taking my wish with it.

Fate found a way to weave my wish into reality shortly (be careful what you wish for!). So in March 2003 I stepped into the unknown with my bag, and there in the middle of Kuala Lumpur I got to see the Petronas Twin Towers—then the tallest, for the first time with eyes wide open in enchantment. I wouldn’t say my experience back then was successful, but hey—any experience is better than no experience at all.

I say now—first time’s a wonder, but third time’s a charm.

It’s now year 2017 and I set foot once again—for the third time—in Kuala Lumpur. How do I reacquaint myself to this place I first met 14 years ago and how do I do it in a short amount of time?

Ok—let’s start with food.

February 2017
Beh Brothers, Jalan Alor No. 21
Bukit Bintang 50200
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

To codename: Louella,

If there’s one person who could recklessly eat while at the same time savoring the food more than I do, that would be you. I am writing this as I recklessly partake of this heavenly plate of Nasi Campur in what I think is food heaven, also known as Jalan Alor.

Hawker places are abundant on this side of KL, although not the cheapest as advertised (there are other even incredibly cheaper spots around), this area just happens to be very convenient from where I am staying, at Simm’s—a boutique hotel that has seen better days; I would never recommend it to anyone.

Also, eating here is by no means a staggering experience. I mean, the food options are diverse and spicier, and the people preparing your food are friendlier— a far cry from the agony of going local in Shanghai (remember the lady who kept rolling her eyes at us and insisted we get membership cards first before we were allowed to eat? Oh, China. Memories.)

Nasi Campur, literally, rice mix—a staple dish not just in Indonesia but also here in Malaysia, as well as other Southeast Asian countries, is an example of a dish that has gone through multiple stages of evolution and has been tested through time. Time seemed to be the deciding factor in the development of its modern incarnation. (I happen to also like the version in Bali, but this one I am eating right now is just too good, I can’t even write this properly)

Like Nasi Campur itself, Malaysia is a hodgepodge of ethnicities—three to be exact, and it’s fascinating how diversity has somehow found a way to forming a collective Malaysian identity. The Chinese, Malay and Indians found home in this ever-evolving city, and everywhere you go you will see influences from the above mentioned.

I can go on and on with my stories, you know—but one thing is certain: My stomach needs deliberate expansion. . . right now.

So much to eat here, but so little time.

 

February 2017
Petronas Twin Towers
Suria KLCC, Kuala Lumpur Malaysia
8:10 PM

To my life professor,

The iconic Petronas Twin Towers, Malaysia’s crown jewel, stands majestically tall at 1483 feet. It was the tallest structure from 1998 to 2004, only to be succeeded by Taipei 101. Today it still enjoys the record of being the tallest twin towers in the world and is a symbol of postmodern Malaysia.

I am here by the fountain looking at the thousand or so tourists (I am exaggerating, of course) carrying their expensive cameras, unforgivingly striking a pose with the towers as their background. It’s like a party scene here, you know, and you don’t even need an invitation to participate. Just come here and celebrate with a bunch of strangers.

Determined to photograph with utmost precision (I take composition seriously) I did have a few minutes of uninterrupted shooting, but got shoved and blocked eventually by a group of ladies wanting to have their own slice of the pie. It’s a little annoying how some tourists can be insensitive, but this is how it goes, not only here but in other parts of the world. 

In between shutter clicks I would find myself stopping for a moment, reliving memories like an interjected scene in a movie. I remember breaking the news to you that I was going to be in Malaysia to watch the 2003 Formula One race. Remember the time you were driving me to the airport only to find ourselves in a heated argument on the road? That was very silly of me, and I didn’t even have the chance to apologize. I guess it’s no longer relevant to say sorry now—14 years later—but I’ll say it anyhow.

I am deeply sorry.

The revelry here is not yet over, and I guess it will never be. You realize today is my last day being 32. So when are you coming here?

KLIA Ekspres, between Kuala Lumpur and Sepang
2:16 PM

To Codename: Michelangelo,

So how did I celebrate the eve of my 33rd birthday? By expanding my stomach, desperately exceeding the envelope to accommodate the abundance of food on Jalan Alor, walking along its entire stretch and recklessly feeding myself as if there’s no tomorrow. I felt like I was the cookie monster, only I wasn’t eating cookies, but chili peppers, mangoes, Satay, fried durian and much more.

I am getting older—that’s a fact, and if there’s one thing I have noticed as I age and get seasoned by all this traveling (it gets tiring sometimes, to be honest), is that I have been packing lighter than ever. I would like to compare this to the heavy load I had been carrying for many years: Attempting to confront the bitter truth that time was indeed stolen from us, I would find myself repeatedly getting angry at this fact.

You see, there is nothing more sobering than having to witness the absoluteness of mortality itself. It breaks your heart terribly you begin to wonder when yours will be, coming to the conclusion that death is just out there, hovering like a merciless wraith. But then that’s how life goes and there is no other way than to unload, pack light, move forward and savor each moment.

Getting re-acquainted to this city, I went back to the places I have first visited in 2003 (I was carrying your backpack that time, of course you know that) and came across a familiar sight: The two rivers that gave birth to what is now known as Kuala Lumpur.

Now, Kuala Lumpur or KL, literally muddy confluence, started as a mining post in the 19th century. The name is said to have originated at the confluence of these two muddy rivers, namely the East and West rivers—now guarded by the solemn yet attentive Masjid Sultan. The rivers at present are no longer muddy, nor is KL still a mining post. KL has indeed grown into a city full of promises of the future without forgetting its not-too distant past. No wonder it draws thousands visitors from all over the world.  

Now this area of KL screams colonial flamboyance. Elements of Moorish and of western origin were incorporated to form a cluster of historical sites such as the National Textile Museum, Sultan Abdul Samad (this iconic building faces Merdeka Square where Malaysia declared its independence from the British) as well as a number of Banyan trees planted during the colonial days. How interesting is that?

I know history is my thing, and I wish I could stay longer to get to know the city more, but then I have a flight to catch. I decided to leave early today and figured a way to kill time, which is by reading this guidebook of Delhi, Agra and Rajasthan, allowing my imagination to run free and uninhibited. Will I be going to India in the future? I sure hope so.

It’s a little hard for me to finish this letter realizing you will never be able to read this, but I am confident my soul speaks to you louder and in a manner so familiar it’s as if you are still physically here. 

Well, at least we’re never really separated in spirit. And that, to me, is comforting enough.

Love,
Your brother. 

PostScript,

This guidebook is really outdated; you won’t like it.

Stay tuned for Part 3.